Long Copper Poems
Long Copper Poems. Below are the most popular long Copper by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Copper poems by poem length and keyword.
I howl with wolves I’ll be back somehow
My heart bruised like the sky that hour before sunrise
When sparrows find yoke in the universe
But blossom as copper in the Apple trees
Filling the cold morning with jingling keys
The pond steams like coffee
This early blurry April moon in the fingers of Oaks
Is mine
Here in my backyard in my sky
A moon can be yours too I understand
But that is your moon a different stone to throw
Down your own well
I moaned to the universe
And tempted to depoliticize dehumanize dephilosophize
The Son of God
But that was a mistake
The battle made Him more so all those things
So I made Him just mine again
My salvation
In the quiet mind of my birdcage
Door set ajar
Found peace
In the infinite purity of in-between.
Ghostly frail figure,
that I am now,
neath nebulous moon,
where I shed tears,
on brambled verge,
as thin bones quake,
emaciated earthly being,
whose nocturnal solace,
bereft of suave signage,
with a deathly sickness,
icily immune to healing,
taut threadbare skeletons,
prone to clinical diagnosis,
never fugitive in closet,
nor courtroom strict sanction,
cordoned off camera setting,
where splurge of guilty scruple,
in atonement an utter ruse,
yet musings mercurial lurk,
as the net of darkness threatens,
indignant isolate me stranded,
whilst casting mirrorlike,
reflections shed under veil,
of midnight mosaic,
on my mishap strewn life,
due to brittle bony,
fragmented awkwardness,
that wreaked wild havoc,
with long term intimate bonds,
commonly entailing excess,
swing by to overflowing wards,
I eschew self-pity, period,
so vain and vacuous,
alien and anathema,
barren rattle cerebral
sqeamish stream of,
inlaid tract,
rumination razor-sharp,
from emaciated mortal,
whose stealthy lurch,
is frame vulnerable,
torrid touchstone,
as skeleton key,
gaining ingress to,
stubborn locked doors,
syndrome blight,
hailed as,
lean skinny shell,
resignation rare,
stoic coexistence,
copper-fastens
I love Jewish food,
So does my tum,
It makes my mouth water
And delights my tongue.
I worked in the City.
Of London years ago
London brings back memories,
That I treasure so.
I used to pass a Jewish Deli,
As I walked along the street,
The smells coming from that Deli,
It smelled marvellous to eat.
A little bell tinkled as I opened the door
The aroma of Wally in spiced vinegar
It was a smell not to ignore.
These pickles were in a huge barrel
Made of wood and copper,
You placed your hand into the tub
And hope to find a whopper.
One of my favourite Jewish foods
Is chopped liver
The thought of it now
It makes my taste buds quiver.
Upon the shop counter, I spied,
Mozzah and Gefilte fish
It was hard not to purchase
Every single dish.
I adored Latkes,
Flat Potato Cakes
Just thinking of the flavour
It makes my stomach ache,
Freshly baked Bagels,
A bread roll shaped like a ring
Solly, the deli owner,
Sold everything.
I will always remember shopping.
At Solly's old-fashioned deli,
I have fond memories of his shop
And so does my belly.
Upon this monumental door, a sense of gratitude came before my eyes
If stabbed by paths of fear and wrath, new trust came pouring down
For behind the glittering forest, and a pomegrante stained sky
Enhancing was this quiet hour, in dwindling crimson crowned
There, in tensile grace, our meeting came a twofold surprise
Lightly splashed in backlight, where the tender grass had grown
Quietly grazing with grace, at first unaware of eyes
This thing of beauty revealed for my gladness alone
Suddenly the white tailed doe sensed me watching her
She perked up ears, alert to my presence, yet did not flee
Dare I even break the silence with a whispered word?
Or take a step per chance my foot might rustle twig or leaf?
This battle of wills...intense, a fleeting chance in time
Making no move...each of us transfixed, unable to breathe
Nor break this entrancing spell as her eyes met mine
Moments transpired...only sound of scarcely whistling breeze
Eyes like windows, of which the glass is tongue
She spoke to me, in hypnotic spell, I felt myself release
Our spirits crossed against the sky, beneath the copper trees
As if laced, were we, where spirits dwell, in universal peace
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
By Carrie Richards, for Kristen Bruni's contest "What Animal Would I Be?"
Words by: Arthur Vaso
Excerpt from his poem entitled: She
Red, the vibrancy of the rose, hidden. The little garden smiles after the rain,
filled and full of compassion she is my sanity in a world that has gone insane.
She is my sunrise when sunsets are only,.. Flames !
*****
A beautiful sunset flames the horizon but all I do is think of her
the way her fairy red hair glows in an evening's flaxen copper light
The water feels calm and the trees rest easily upon this peaceful earth
but all I want to do is run my fingers through her curls when she smiles !
She sits on a wicker bench, a red rose posed in beauteous charm
scented softly like the gardenias that surround my happy garden
lost in the petrichor that arises after a long awaited rainfall
all I need is to be close to her, closer than the breath of her skin
With a touch barely there the sun rises upon her ivory shoulder
the Flames I've known yesterday can never compare
to this gentle Rose who speaks only the language of love to me
She is sunrise and sunset,... my everlasting Flame!
By: Mystic Rose
”... Seven dimes placed and a penny in my shoe…”
The law of attraction works really quite well
Undeniable secrets of long ago
Modern understandings prove to know
Better mixed up what the Bookie was to show.
”....Times a changin’... so hear we go….”
Bajillions of people for how many years?
Focused on stories of love or fear?
Looking inward to see it’s clear
A motion of Soul, returns the great gear.
Grounding of a pole in copper fields
SixtyNine lines minus one Reveals….
88 constellations on a primary wheel
Five toes on One, very delicate heal…
Five decks a glass shoe, forged of steal
”.... forgive me Lord, A pearl in the snow…”
Seven coins traced eight lines to know.
Form:
***bawdy
--------
once an Aussie had a Barry Crocker
when he got fined from an angry copper
he smoked up his holden ute
then said it was real beaut
because of this, the fine was made double
and his best mate was nicked named blue
cooked kangaroo and emu stew
gave none to hungry Scott
'cause he gulped down the whole lot
then spent the next day in the loo
his best shiela was from Melbourne
wore little since she was well born
she'd walk around in the buff
except for mittens an' gloves
till the day she fell on a thorn
she had a best friend called Mary
who had a whistling canary
it's tune stuck in Mary's head
from morning to night-time bed
and drove her to reach the sherry
they all knew a bogan from sydney
who was very tall and so skinny
one day while at bondi
meet a young blond called di
their first date was spent in his tinnie
di was a bushie and jillaroo
who squawked louder than a cockatoo
she would waddle like a duck
but he couldn't believe his luck
when she showed him her secret tattoo
one day while out for a ride
he asked her to be his bride
and when she said yes
they relieved his stress
till they both became cross-eyed
---------------------------------------------------
Aussie slang interpretations:
Barry Crocker-shocker
copper-policeman
smoked up-skid
holden-popular australian make of car
ute-utility vehicle [a car & pickup truck combined]
beaut-beautiful
loo-toilet
shiela-girl/woman
buff-naked
bogan-uncouth person
tinnie-small aluminium boat
.....................
Jan 26 is Australia Day-to all Aussies, happy Oz day
The wind blows across
empty cattle yards
and tailing mounds
from old copper mines,
across open spaces
that spread beyond
boundary fences
and the reach
of railway lines,
way out past
the rutted wakes left
by four wheel drives.
Only bones take root
out here and grow
into phantoms
who haunt the horizon,
finding voice in the moans
that wander the land
in search of lost
ancestral homes.
Something ancient
sleeps here
deep underground.
Coiled in a sacred womb
it waits for rebirth.
Beneath the quiet cathedrals
of vaulted nights
you can hear it breathe
through pore holes
rising up out
of the red earth.
Far away,
corralled inside coastal cities,
a nation grows deaf
on the din of its own noise.
Blinded by the dazzle
of unresting lights,
it floats the continent
dangling clots
of shallow roots.
I was a teenager when back when, when I first started working in the tape industry. Working in Manhattan traveling from New Jersey either by train, bus or car for seventeen long years. I've learnt the ins and outs from just about every standpoint in the field. Starting from unloading trucks, to customer service, into sales and then eventually becoming an owner of my own company. I sold all different kinds of tapes, from scotch tape (which is actually just a cellophane tape sold by the infamous (3M Co.) to gaffer tape mainly used in the motion picture and television industry. There's a whole world of sticky substances out there that gets applied to some sort of material like cotton, cloth, cellophane, paper, polyester, aluminum, copper and tons of other kinds of foreign substances that can get adhesive applied on to. Almost every business or company uses some sort of tape. So, this is how it all works out in the end. Here I am, now at almost breaking the 65-age mark in life. After all these years of busting my butt and putting in the necessary time to make a living for myself. Well, here comes the ball-buster. Just like that ((SOLD)). The company that I helped build, the company that I grew with for almost 45 years of my life, just like that it's been sold and bought by some low-life never went to college son-of-a rich man idiot that knows nothing about the tape industry other than it is now owned by him. And that now went from being a family owned richly built company into a new family-owned corporate business that's slowly but surely getting rid of all the original employees and replacing them with new family members or part-time workers. In the past 3 years I've seen three companies that I have worked for, for almost 30 years have gone corporate. Two of the three I no longer work for because of the rules and regulations, like over the top insurances, workman's comp./liability insurance and million-dollar coverages on car insurance. It's totally unfair to the small-time companies. Thank goodness I've reached the age of retirement, or I might be working at McDonalds.
they went corporate
so many people suffered
happy to retire
I have had this by my side
Since my days of youth
A very valuable priceless gem
I'd like to share with you
It's not made of silver
Copper or shiny bronze
But of the purest gold
You yourself can pass along
It doesn't really matter
What your race or creed
Or even to what god
It is you bend your knee
If it is we all did this
We would change the face
Of the world we live in
The entire human race
Words spoken by Jesus
That hit the vain of truth
No need to be a Christian though
For it to speak to you
For lack of a better name
It is called the golden rule
"Do unto others as you
would have them do to you"
I know that it sounds simple
And yet it's so profound
That this little gem of gold
Could turn the world around
Like I said before
I've held this since my youth
It was given to me to give back freely
As I pass it on to you